


Violet is the Sky

by Notatracer



Series: Crimson Arias [2]
Category: Fright Night (2011), Good Omens Extended Universe, Twilight (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Vampire Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:53:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24402355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notatracer/pseuds/Notatracer
Summary: Lips part as blood flows down quivering porcelain. Remembrances. Longing. Violet is the sky and the bruised remnants of my soul.Follows "Black is the Night"
Relationships: Aro (Twilight)/Peter Vincent
Series: Crimson Arias [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1762087
Comments: 11
Kudos: 48





	Violet is the Sky

Peter tugged at the tie-belt of the exceptionally soft dressing gown. It had come from an unexpected stay at the Bellagio and was normally quite expensive. Peter had stuffed it into his suitcase, later exclaiming over the phone, "Why would I take a bloody cheap hotel robe?! Don't you know who I am?!" They, in fact, did not know who he was but had relented nonetheless. 

He'd stayed at the Bellagio for a brief period after he had been both fired and evicted on the day the Hard Rock was sold. He doubted the ink was even dry on the documents before some suit rang him up with the news. 

For the past year or so he'd been living in his new penthouse while spending his time late-night eBaying through his residual money from various tv appearances and doing very little else except rushing headlong into vampire dens. At least until recently when he found something, someone new to keep his restless mind occupied. Or, rather, that someone found him. 

Still. Sometimes he missed performing the show, but he missed his fire pit and his personal lift more. And, of course, he missed the comfort of having a panic room most of all. Thank fuck he'd found a penthouse with a built-in bar.

Peter watched, transfixed, as the pilfered dressing gown parted. This was the first time he had gotten a really good look at the vampire fully erect in the light. There wasn't anything particularly unusual looking about it except instead of being a blushing pink, an angry red, or even a throbbing purple, it was ...well, as grey as the breeze blocks on Peter's childhood home.

Peter reached out hesitantly. A strong hand caught him by the wrist and guided him. 

"Squeeze as tightly as you are able."

"But-"

"You won't hurt me."

It was so stiff and cold with very little give, Peter couldn't help but think that it seemed a bit like trying to jerk off a statue. He must have been doing something right because when he looked up to Aro's face, instead of finding those ever-watching eyes, his head was thrown back - his mouth open, his chest heaving, the dressing gown slipping off his shoulders. 

Peter leaned forward, licking the expanse of pale neck. 

Aro moaned. 

~*~

Peter, clad in only a pair of old sweatpants, stood at the window of his penthouse. He took a swig straight from his bottle of Jack, his heavy eyes watching as the sunset turned the Vegas sky violet. 

He waited. 

Every night he would wait. Every night he would tell himself that he wasn't waiting. Every night he'd end up having a sad wank to half-remembered images and pass out drunk, sometimes before he got himself off. And, every following afternoon he'd wake up feeling like shit for more reasons than he cared to count and start the process over again.

Peter raised the bottle, intending to take another drink, but paused when he felt _it_. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He shivered. 

If he were pressed to describe the feeling, the best he could manage would be it's like standing alone in a cemetery late at night. The fog rolls in, the smell of a freshly dug grave fills your nostrils. Maybe it's your imagination, but you feel someone watching from the darkness. At first it's like that - a moment of dread, of impending death ... a feeling that went straight to his groin. 

His hand snaked down to the front of his sweatpants. He quickly adjusted himself, grateful that it was still early and he hadn't drank so much that he'd succumbed to whisky dick.

He held his breath for the imminent touch or word or some sign that the one he'd been waiting all this time for was lurking in the room with him. Instead, there was a knock. That was ... unexpected. 

Peter set the bottle down on the nearest surface and crossed the length of his penthouse in record time. As he already knew with every fiber of his being, Aro stood on the other side of the door. The blacks and whites of his drunken fantasies suddenly clicked into place. Peter faltered. 

Jerking it to the blurry memory of someone was one thing, but actually seeing him was enough to make Peter so hard that it hurt. No hiding that in sweatpants. Aro smirked. 

"Aren't you going to invite me in?"

"Since when do you need an invitation?"

Aro pushed his way past Peter. 

"I was attempting to be polite, mortal."

Peter steadied himself against the closed door. No time to think, just do.

"I do apol-"

Before Aro had the chance to say anything more, Peter grabbed him by the lapels, swung him around and pressed him against the door. In the few remaining brain cells that weren't drowning in either lust or booze, he knew Aro was allowing himself to be manhandled. 

Their lips met, tongues immediately sliding into each other's mouths. 

"Fuck, I've missed you."

He wasn't sure how he got there so fast, but the next thing Peter knew, he'd been tossed facedown onto the bed. He had apparently lost his sweatpants somewhere along the way because there was nothing between him and the cold flesh of the vampire. The bed shook as Aro relentlessly took him. Aro's weight pressed down, his long hair tickled at Peter's skin with each violent thrust. Peter's moans of pleasure-pain filled the room. 

Peter gasped as an icy hand slid around his neck, lingering dangerously, before it moved to grip under his chin. A strange sensation nudged Peter's mind, but it didn't stay long before he manipulated the hand to his mouth and bit down. Aro's hips stuttered as he let out a low groan at the pressure of the bite, though it didn't damage his skin in the slightest.

The hand withdrew, soon replaced by a wrist pressing to Peter's lips. 

A husky, "Not too much," whispered in his ear.

Peter tentatively licked at Aro's self-inflicted bite. As the vampire's venom entered his body, his nerve endings felt as though they were lighting on fire. Soon, he was completely lost to anything except feeling. 

The second Peter's mouth latched onto the wound and began to suck, Aro grabbed him by the hair, painfully jerking his head back.

"Greedy human, do you want to become a vampire?"

Aro pulled his hair again. Peter cried out, his cock throbbing, spilling hot from where it was trapped between his belly and the mattress. Aro hissed, doubling his efforts to absolutely pound Peter into the growing wet spot. Relief washed over Peter when Aro's ice cold cum filled his overheating body. 

Peter vaguely registered a kiss to the back of his head before Aro's surprisingly heavy weight rolled off of him. Once settled, Aro rubbed his fingers down Peter's back.

"Please, don't touch me. Sorry. It's-it's too much."

"That would be the venom. You should be more careful."

Peter grunted and turned his head just in time to see Aro wiping his dick on the sheets.

"Filthy vampire."

A dull pain suddenly overcame Peter, causing him to curl up and grit out a meek "fuck."

"Are you alright?"

"Just need a minute."

With some difficulty, Peter hobbled his way to the bathroom, praying to anyone who would listen that he would make it there in time.

When he returned, he found Aro sprawled out across the duvet, now covering the soiled sheets. He was lazily running his fingers up and down his spent member, completely without shame.

"Better?"

"Except for feeling like I've swallowed a lit match, my eyes being all pupil and you wrecking my arse .... Yeah, I think so. Especially seeing you like this."

Peter planted a small kiss on Aro's lips before dropping a thin packet onto his stomach. 

"What's this?"

"A plaster." When Aro continued to look at him as if he was speaking nonsense, Peter added, "... er, a bandage. You put it on your arm to stop the bleeding."

"Yes, I know what a plaster is. My wound will heal without one."

"Just use it. You're getting blood on my fucking bed. Again."

"If this will make you happy." Aro turned it over several times, eyeing the packaging. "I'm afraid I don't-"

"For fuck's sake. Here."

Grabbing some of his bedside tissues, Peter wiped off the excess blood before tearing open the paper and neatly applying the bandage. Aro looked at it with a bemused expression, flexing his hand several times.

They both lay back, staring up at the dark ceiling. Their arms only just touching - Peter's flushed, Aro's as freezing as ever.

Once Peter's swirling thoughts settled down a bit, he swallowed hard before asking the question that had been rattling around in his brain for days.

"Why me?"

"Would you believe me if I told you it's because you have a handsome face?"

"I don't believe you'd risk your life because you fancied a shag with someone your entire species deemed inferior."

There was no reply. 

He turned his head to see Aro blinking several times. Honest to God blinking. Aro took several unnecessary breaths. Or maybe they were necessary in this case. Peter mentally cursed himself. They were having a good time and he had to start asking questions. 

"You don't have-"

A whisper cut him off. He didn't quite catch it, but it sounded like Aro had said, " _Cantante_."

"Hm?"

"You ... appeal to me. Greatly. I find your smell pleasing. And, your face reminds me of someone I knew a lifetime ago."

Of course. He didn't particularly want to hear about some other guy, but that's what he got for asking questions. At least Aro seemed to think he smelled nice. Great. 

Well, in for a penny ... 

"Who was he?"

"I've never told anyone about him."

"You can tell me. If you want." 

The silence stretched on so long that Peter thought that this was the end of it. Aro turned onto his side, looking at Peter with those red eyes that always seemed to be searching into his soul. 

"You know, your personalities can't possibly be more different, but your physical resemblance is remarkable. I could trace my fingers along his freckled skin as if I were mapping the stars, content for hours."

"What happened to him?"

"He died."

"I'm sorry."

"All mortals die. But, my _amore_ deserved a better fate.

We were ridiculously enamored with each other an incomprehensible number of years ago. Both human, if you can imagine me fleshy, soft, warm, full of life. I can still remember the taste of his ambrosia kisses. I imagine it's how yours would taste if they weren’t always saturated with alcohol and sadness." 

"I'm a hopeless mess."

Aro lightly rested his fingers on Peter's wrist.

"You're not hopeless."

"Go on."

"I managed to avoid him for some time after I was turned. I was afraid to see the look on his face when he saw what I had become. But, cruel fate had bonded me to him. I physically ached for him. Sometimes I still do. When I finally couldn't stand to be apart from him any longer, he accepted me into his home as if nothing had changed. He was concerned about my absence and my pallid complexion, but took the rest of it completely in stride. He didn't even mention these infernal eyes. 

That same night he made love to me, gentle as if he thought I might break. He said he wanted to prove that the obvious physical differences didn't matter. I was still a newborn, freshly turned, and I hadn't yet learned to control myself. So, in the throws of passion, I bit him. Not only did I bite him, my poor Anatolios, but I ripped his throat."

Aro paused before continuing. Peter wanted to say something, anything but couldn't find the words. 

"I pulled away the moment I realized what I'd done, but it was too late. There was blood everywhere. I held him in my arms as he looked up at me, gasping desperately. He couldn't properly speak, only a horrible gurgling that I'll never forgot. I didn't understand at the time how I could know what he was trying to say. How I heard his dying words in my mind - that he loved me ... and to please don't let him turn into a monster.

Before he fully died, I drank from him while his blood was still pumping. Once I'd had my fill, I carried him out back, carefully laid him on the ground, pulled his head off, and burned his body so he would never become what I am."

Silence hung heavy in the air. Aro's eyes had closed at some point during his story. Peter had never seen a vampire look sad before. It never even crossed his mind that they could be sad. He placed his hand on Aro's face, gently rubbing his cheek with his thumb.

"I'm sorry I'm not your Anatolios."

Aro opened his eyes, his expression changing to somewhere between confusion and anger.

"I just told you I killed my human lover. Why are you not fleeing in terror?"

"I don't know."

Peter closed the gap, kissing Aro slow but deep. Peter could feel the nudging sensation in his mind again. Strange as it sounds, it felt weak, distracted ... tired, perhaps. Almost as soon as he felt it, it was gone.

After Peter broke the kiss, he opened his eyes to see Aro smiling sweetly. He seemed to change emotions so quickly, Peter thought it was a wonder he didn't have emotional whiplash.

Aro sat up, moving to get off the bed. Peter felt a sudden panic at the thought of him leaving.

"Don't go."

"I'm only going to clean myself up so I'm less of a ... filthy vampire."

While Aro was in the bathroom for an exceptionally long time, Peter had gotten semi-dressed and changed the bedding. He sat on the bed, drumming his fingers on his knee before remembering his abandoned bottle of Jack in the other room.

By the time Aro finally emerged, Peter was at the bar doing his level best to finish off the bottle. Sensing him silently entering the room, Peter looked up to find Aro wearing the dressing gown that had been pinched from the Bellagio. 

"You're so hot."

"I assure you I'm not."

"Not hot like ... ugh. Sexy! I'm saying you look sexy."

"Ah."

Peter was absolutely sure that if Aro was able to blush he would be at that very moment. 

"C'mon, have a drink with me."

As he sat on a barstool, Aro replied, "I can't." 

Ignoring him, Peter poured some of the whisky into a shot glass and slid it across the bar.

"Just one."

"I would take you up on the offer if I were able, but I no longer possess the digestive system to imbibe in human food and drink."

Peter considered this before placing an empty scotch glass in front of Aro. He raised an eyebrow.

"Spit cup."

"If you insist."

Peter clicked their glasses together before downing his own shot. Aro followed by example, almost immediately spitting it back out. He smacked his lips.

"You enjoy that, do you?"

"I wouldn't say enjoy. We all deal with our personal traumas in our own way." 

"Quite."

"I know something you'll like better."

Peter rifled around underneath the bar until exclaiming a triumphant, "Ah ha!" 

He handed Aro a silver dagger, the handle adorned with an ornate wolf's head.

"This is a Bulgarian werewolf hunter's dagger. Got into a nasty bidding war for it. Only a handful of these are known to exist. It makes cutting limes a breeze." 

"That is intricate craftsmanship. I'm sure its creator would be pleased to know that his fine weapon is now used to slay fruit."

"Ehhh. I wasn't talking about the knife when I said I had something you'd like."

Peter set another empty scotch glass in front of Aro. He opened his mouth, as if to protest any more samples, but clapped it shut when Peter laid his arm across the bar. The fleshy underside turned up, inviting. 

"You looked like you could use it."

"Are you certain?"

Peter shrugged.

"I was gonna do it myself while you were in the shower, but I figured I'd just fuck it up and cut something I shouldn't. Best leave it to the expert."

"I would hardly say I'm an expert at taking blood in this manner." 

Aro poked Peter's arm several times with his finger. 

"Do you have another bandage?"

"Yeah, there's a first aid kit under here somewhere."

Peter reached his free hand behind the bar and pulled out a small white box with a cross on it. 

"I get a bit accident-prone when I blackout."

Aro stopped prodding, apparently satisfied that he'd found a good spot. He lifted his finger, replacing it with the lightest of kisses. 

"For luck. Here's to not, as you would say, fucking this up."

Peter couldn't make himself look away as Aro pressed the dagger into his flesh, cutting deep but with obvious care. The best he could manage was a sharp intake of breath.

His arm was lifted and turned so blood flowed steadily into the glass. It was over quickly, but it felt like forever. Aro cleaned the wound with his tongue before doctoring Peter's wound.

Remembering the snacks he'd been given after pretending to donate blood for some charity/PR event, Peter munched on a packet of Teddy Grahams while he watched Aro sniff the contents of the glass as if it were a fine wine.

"Drink up while it's still warm."

Aro pressed the glass to his lips, making an appreciative noise as he drank the gifted blood. He let out a loud, satisfied sigh after he'd drained the glass. His eyes slipped closed as he licked his lips.

"You are delicious."

Peter circled to the other side of the bar, intending to capture that enticing tongue, but stopped short when Aro's intense eyes fell upon him. 

Aro outstretched his hand, palm down.

"Do you trust me?"

Peter didn't reply, but slid his palm against Aro's, their fingers curling around each other's hands. Even with everything strange that had happened to him, simply holding hands with a vampire still seemed to rank up there. It was nice. Strange, but nice. 

Aro placed his other hand on top before he pulled their joined hands close to his heart. His eyes seemed to completely lose focus. Peter's breath hitched not so much at the sensation that he felt, stronger than ever before, but at the realization that all this time it had been Aro in his mind.

"Just relax."

Peter closed his eyes, not even attempting to block Aro from his memories. He wasn't sure if it was possible, but fuck it. If Aro wanted to see his parents' broken bodies, all the self-destructive shit he'd gotten up to since then, more power to him. What he wasn't expecting was, after Aro had taken a trip down Peter's memory lane, a few select memories were sent back across their shared connection. He'd have to parse through them when he was alone and significantly more sober.

Aro released his hand, whispering, "You really should not."

"Not what?"

A smile spread across Aro's lips.

"Trust me."

Peter stood between Aro's legs.

"You shouldn't trust me either."

"Oh?"

"Vampire hunter, remember."

Peter tugged at the tie-belt of the dressing gown, letting it fall open to reveal the hard, grey cock that had been hiding underneath. Peter licked Aro's neck as he pumped his hand, squeezing tightly, reveling in the sounds escaping his blood-stained mouth.

When he was sure Aro was close, he bent down, taking the head in his mouth as his hand continued to work. Aro's fingers carded urgently through his hair. With a twitch, cold cum was surging across Peter tongue. He gagged at the sensation, but managed to swallow what hadn't escaped. His eyes watered and his throat burned, but none of that mattered when he looked up to see Aro gazing at him like he was the most beautiful thing in all of creation.

Aro wiped Peter's chin with a bar towel.

"Bed?"

"Yeah."

They lay in bed, human and vampire, a tangle of limbs. Aro's face nuzzled against Peter's chest, leaching away at his body heat. Peter could feel sleep begin to take hold, as if falling asleep with a vampire's mouth so close to his neck was a perfectly normal, rational thing to do. And, yet, he felt like it was going to be the best night's sleep he'd had in a very long time.

**Author's Note:**

> ~ thanks to those who encouraged me to write more of these two. xo
> 
> Come [tumblr](https://famousmortimer.tumblr.com/) with me.


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